Afterimages
by cateliot
Summary: Bahrain stole everything from Melinda May that day in the desert and as she tried to rebuild from the shattered pieces, not everything was salvageable. Cracks remained. Battle wounds never healed over. And parts of her were lost. [A look into the effects of Bahrain on the warrior who came out "the Calvary" and the girl she was before.]
1. Fire in Her Soul

_Disclaimer and Copyright:_ This work of fiction is based on characters and settings created by Marvel Entertainment and affiliates. All recognizable characters, settings, and plot elements are copyright © Marvel Entertainment and their assignees, including The Walt Disney Company. The author believes this work falls within the scope of the Fair Use Doctrine as a transformative work. For more information, see the Organization for Transformative Works.

All original characters, settings, and plot elements are copyright © Cate Eliot. This work of fiction is available for use under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported (CC-BY-NC-SA 3.0) license.

 _Author's Note_ _:_ I'm relatively new to the Marvel Universe. I have really enjoyed the Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. series on Netflix and have been mildly surprised with the amount of well written characters and captivating story lines, Melinda May being the most interesting by far. I wanted to dive deeper into the storyline of Bahrain and experiment with just what the effects and consequences would be on the rest of her life and missions. She's such a poetically beautiful character, I really wanted to write her. Every part could be a standalone piece, but put together as a whole, they explore the consequences of Bahrain and what followed. I have loosely followed the episode's description of the event, depicted in 2.17 "Melinda". But I want to try and stay close to character.

I wanted to start out the series with a simpler and shorter one-shot. I have at least two more parts already written for this series, but I wanted to put out some feelers for this genre. Each one-shot could stand alone as I mentioned in the Disclaimer and Copyright, but they all go together with the overarching Bahrain theme as well. However, they will vary from all different episodes and times period, not necessarily in order. Let me know what you think it—good or bad. I love all feedback. Please review.

 _Episode Tag_ : 1.8 "The Well"

* * *

" _ **You are so brave and quiet**_

 _ **I forget you are suffering."**_

* * *

 _PART ONE: Fire in Her Soul_

"When you held it, did you see anything?"

Exhaustion weighed down every word as Ward watched the rest of the team and the others work around him and May. The woman next to him simply nodded, shakily, but didn't turned her eyes towards him.

She seemed a million miles away.

And that was how he felt, but he couldn't understand how she could be standing there, so calm and composed. He had wanted to rip everything and everyone to shreds, yet May had simply set the staff on the ground and walked away.

He didn't understand.

"Then _how_?" He struggled to even pose the question. "How did you hold all three?"

He watched her for a reaction, but she didn't seem to want to give him one. For a split second, Ward wasn't even sure May had even heard him. But then she moved from her statue like pose and took a step towards the doors.

"Because I see it every day."

He couldn't decipher all the tones in her words, but before he could even open his mouth to ask another question, she had moved away, analyzing the work going on around them. Her eyes passing over the staff in the center of the floor and the piles of bodies strewn over the cobblestones.

He shook his head and felt the earthquake sized headache he had gotten from the staff's encounter earlier and he knew he wouldn't be able to solve The Calvary at this rate anyways.

* * *

"That woman," Randolph said, labored as he moved to a better standing position. Blood and sweat clung to his shirt and his eyes were tired, but alight with a shine that Coulson had never seen before.

It was panicked, excited. Otherworldly.

"Easy, Professor." Coulson moved to steady the Asgardian. "Agent Simmons?" Coulson asked searching for common ground, "are you feeling ill? I can get, Jemma—"

The man shook his head vehemently. "No, no," he said almost impatiently, "the woman that held my staff." Randolph tried to move from the balcony towards the stairs, but Coulson slowed him. "The golden woman, the one with the fire in her soul, I—I must speak to her immediately."

Coulson frowned and his eyes swept the downstairs of the church. He felt his breath hitch at the sight of May leaning against one of the church's wall, off to herself, detachedly watching the teams clean up the bodies and wreckage.

"Okay, okay," he said, letting out a breath he didn't remember drawing, "I'll take you to her. Let's go slow and easy, okay. We don't want the stiches Agent Simmons gave you to rip before your body has time to heal itself."

The Berserker professor let go of Coulson's arm a few length away from May who had watched them impassively before she noticed them purposely coming towards her. He approached her slowly and intently.

May straightened as he approached, but Coulson moved towards the side of the pair, not quite sure how the entire thing was going to play out.

May looked exhausted.

The years of undercover missions and ops together allowed him to see many of the things she hid behind her many different façades. He didn't need a microscope to tell she was shell shocked by the vision the staff had shown her; the way her eyes analyzed every member of his team, every new person entering the church, every stray noise that didn't belong, everybody, told him all he needed to know.

"You are the one who put my staff back together," the Berserker said, tilting his head to look May up and down as if examining a piece of art. May's eyes met Coulson's and he shook his head discreetly.

 _No, he had no idea what was going on either._

"How curious."

The man's eyes were wide as he took another long look at the agent which seemed to make May uneasy. Her eyebrows dipped slightly and Coulson saw her muscles tense slightly, preparing herself for a threat. Randolph must have noticed it to; he raised a hand, protectively or to calm her, Coulson wasn't sure.

"I mean you no harm. Were you perhaps born Asgardian?"

Incredulous lit up May's normally impassive face.

"Uh—no."

Coulson decided to thrown a wrench into this conversation. "Professor Randolph, this is Agent Melinda May. She's a Specialist for S.H.I.E.L.D. and my second in command."

If Randolph heard this, he didn't respond to it.

"You are woefully composed for a human, Agent May," he said conversationally.

May frowned slightly at the strange nature of the comment, but didn't seem to be bothered. She raised an eyebrow calmly.

"Am I?" she said smoothly.

Randolph's hand shot out to barely touch the tip of her raven hair before May had deftly moved out of the way and Coulson had jerked in between the Berserker warrior and their own resident soldier.

"Okay, let's break this up party up," Ward said, appearing behind the professor and aggressively grabbing man's arm and pushing him back a few steps from both Coulson and May, the latter who hadn't said anything or done other than analytically watch the man staring at her.

An odd smile lit up Randolph's face and his eyes seemed to glitter a little gold as he glanced again at May and over at Ward.

The shouting had gotten the attention of the rest of the team.

"What's happening?" Skye demanded as FitzSimmons appeared behind her, eyes wide.

"Professor, what's going on?" Simmons moved over to Randolph, holding the tablet close to her chest, looking back between the three hostile men glaring at each other and May. Randolph jerked away from Ward and smoothed out his ruined suit.

"I've never found one whose rage wasn't at someone else."


	2. Fearlessness

_Author's Note_ _:_ I'm really happy with this part. I like the length of it and would prefer for them to be longer like this. I liked the time where everything was so new, Ward was still so awkward, and Skye had literally just joined the family. I only got one review for the last chapter, but over 200 views and 11 follows/favorites. Come one guys! Feed the writer's creative hunger. Let me know what you think it—good or bad. I love all feedback. Please review, even it's really simple and easy like "update soon". Enjoy Part Two!

 _Episode Tag_ : 1. 13 " _T.R.A.C.K.S_."

* * *

" _ **Agent May? No? No, no. She transferred from administration."**_

" _ **Well I've seen her destroy a guy, so..."**_

" _ **You've heard of The Calvary?"**_

* * *

 _PART TWO: Fearlessness_

Skye watched the hub of the plane from the safety of her newly assigned bunk. Their mission had gone sideways. She could feel blood dribbling down her face as FitzSimmons rushed around each other nervously in the open space of the Bus. The two seemed to be pacing, blood splattered on their nicely ironed button ups. They looked out of place, she decided.

"How did this happen Fitz?"

"You were the one who wanted to go into the field, Jemma! I told you it would bring nothing but—"

"Violence, yes I know," she continued as they paced around each other.

The hostility from Ward was easily recognizable. He stalked like an agitated lion caged in a too small space. She watched his hands moved towards his sidearm several times as he kept glancing out of the aircraft, monitoring the grounds.

"What the hell happened?" Coulson shouted, appeared out of nowhere as the gate to the Bus' entrance closed behind him. The rag tag team of agents jolted to their feet and moved towards their boss. His eyes scanned over them and as the count only made it to three instead of four, a panic was evident in his face.

"Where's May?"

The silence was enough make him angry.

And frightened.

" _Where is Agent May?"_

"That seems to be the problem, sir, _they_ don't know where she is," Ward said calmly. Skye shot him an icy glare, but the man didn't seem to notice as he kept his attention straight on the man in charge. Coulson climbed the ladder up and moved into the center of the plane, the team fanning out around him.

"I found them running out of the compound, hidden door on the second floor, not on the schematics. Running in the _opposite_ direction of where the plane was hidden, I might add," Ward continued, a hint of smugness under his tone.

"Skye," Coulson's eyes mapped her face, the blood, the cut, and the growing bruises, "you're hurt."

"I'm fine—" she began.

"Everyone to the lab," Coulson snapped, eyeing the blood all over the two scientists as well. Sweat beads gathered on his forehead. "Ward, lock down the plane."

Skye followed Simmons into the lab and followed allowed Simmons to glance over her injuries as Ward stalked away. Fitz hovered in the background, holding what she knew was a broken arm, close to his chest.

It was silent other than the clattering of the medical instruments and the hum of the plane's white noise.

"Someone say something," Skye spouted off, immediately regretting outburst as Coulson and the others stared at her with a gaze she wasn't sure she liked.

Ward chose that moment to reappear in a flash of black and grey. "Plane secured and locked down sir, no noise on the coms." He locked his jaw as he watched Simmons' hand precisely applying antibiotic cream to the facial cut.

"Agent May wouldn't be in danger if the rest of the team was combat ready," Ward hissed, eyeing Skye in particular.

" _Agent Ward."_

The warning was clear in Coulson's voice. "In order to locate Agent May we need to all work together, not arguing like a bunch of children. Agent Simmons, an assessment of the team's injuries please."

Jemma looked much smaller in her polka dotted button up and khaki slacks under the gaze of an intense Coulson and angry Ward. She turned to examine Fitz's forearm, wrapping the already swelling limb, trying to avoid the attention on her.

"Skye has a cut to the forehead, which should heal within a few days. It only cut through the first layer of the dermis, and has some scattered bruises. Fitz took a blow to the head from one of the guards and broke his arm from the jump from the second story. I seem to be unharmed. Nothing that's life threating, sir."

Coulson growled under his breath and rubbed his face. "I need to you tell me exactly what happened," he said. It was clear from the twitch in his upper brow and the tick in his voice he was trying very hard to stay calm. "One at a time," he turned his attention to Skye, "tell me what happened after Ward and I went outside to meet the buyer?"

 _..."How much longer until you have extracted the drive?" Skye said conversationally as she watched the two scientists work. The Russian warehouse's front was packed with layers of computers and drives._

 _The hacker strolled up and down the row behind the two as they plugged in separate_

" _Not too long, we just have to isolate the external chip that holds all the nuclear codes," Simmons said._

" _After that the extraction process is relatively simple, just attach a virus that wipes out the system entirely, covered a harmless bug of course, then download information onto a safety chip before backing it up and forcing the–"_

 _Turning away from the twins of PhDs, Skye pressed a finger to her earpiece, "it's gonna be a while, guys," she relayed over the speaker._

" _Copy that," Coulson's voice crackled over the com. "Ward has the exit secured and I've just arrested the buyer."_

 _It happened so quickly that Skye almost missed it. The signal that trigger the gun fire and the firefight that followed. It was over as quickly as it started._

 _Simmons screamed as the monitor in front of them exploded as a stray bullet penetrated the equipment in front of them._

" _FREEZE!"_

 _Fitz's fingers wavered on the keyboard and both scientists obeyed the accented order. The computer drive they were tasked with retrieving_

" _There's no way in, sir," Ward's voice was scratchy on the com before shorting out entirely. "Wha—"_

 _Skye spit blood out of her mouth from being knocked to the ground and sat up. "Leave them alone," she snapped. The rest of the warehouse quieted as the remaining guns were trained on the three S.H.I.E.L.D. agents._

 _Skye counted at least twelve men as they were tied to industrial poles at the back of the damp, cold, and overall disgustingly cold warehouse._

" _Just what is S.H.I.E.L.D. doing here," the man, clearly in charge by the state of his business suit and oversize gold pinky ring. He sported a scalp of balding black hair and thick eyebrows. As he drew closer, Skye wrinkled her nose at the stench of his cologne._

 _Before any answer occurred, there was a commotion in the corner of the warehouse and May appeared, being dragged along behind one of the Russian enforcers. The man was at least three times May's size as he threw the raven haired woman down with the rest of the team, grumbling under his breath in Russian as he joined the rest of the men gathered around the destroyed computer systems._

" _Agent May!" There was clear relief in Simmons' voice. "Thank God you're here."…_

"—Wait," Ward cut in. He glanced down at her condescendingly. "You're saying that May got captured. Just like that?"

"Look I don't know what problem you have with," Skye snapped, leaning over the table. "But you bet—"

"Specialist don't just get captured at the drop of a hat," he cut in, "which you would know if you had any kind of proper training, any S.H.I.E.L.D. background."

"This isn't about you and your S.H.I.E.L.D. sorority club, Ward," Skye hissed. "Just let me finish."

…" _What are they saying?" Fitz asked, glancing over at Simmons, his eyes wide._

" _Do I look like I speak Russian, Fitz?" Simmons snapped irately. "Why don't you focus on trying to come up with a way of getting us out of here."_

" _They're discussing which one of us to torture first and it looks like it's between me and Skye," May's calm tone carried down to the rest of the bound prisoners._

 _Fitz's eyes widen and he visibly gulped, turning to glance at Simmons and Skye. A hilarious giggle escaped his mouth. "That's a good one Agent May," he said shakily. Skye brushed him off, trying and failing to lock eyes with May._

" _Do we have a plan? Coulson's coming to get us right? He and Ward have to be working on an exit plan," Skye said. She strained against her ropes to glance over at the rest of the team._

" _There was only one entrance into the facility and they sealed it once they heard of the leak."_

" _Then how did you make it inside?" Simmons interrupted._

 _May's dark eyes continued to scan the room, analyzing and focusing. "Any minute now there is going to be diversion. You'll have about thirty second to make it out of rope and up the stairs. Once you turn right there will be four doors on the third one will be cracked with a screwdriver at the base. The hidden door will be jammed, leading to the outside. The Bus is parked about a mile to the northeast."_

 _She paused and watched as the men seemingly decided whatever they were arguing over and turned towards the bound team._

" _Hesitate and you die."_

" _Wait—" Skye said panicked as the men moved, walking back over to them, the man in the middle twirling a curved knife between his fat, cigar fingers. "Aren't you coming with us?"_

 _The man moved to kneeling in front of her._

" _You are going to teel us just vhat you knov aboot our operation?"_

 _Skye's heart was beating uncontrollably and she felt a moment of panic. She licked her lips and with the courage she mustered, she spouted, "Yeah, good luck with that."_

 _The knife slice was too fast for her mind to register before the pain and blood started._

" _SKYE!"_

 _The sounds of FitzSimmons were drowned out by the white noise in her head. The punch to her gut made her cry out and her breath evaporated from her chest. She choked on the air around her. She made herself small before they could try again._

" _Let's try dis again, shall ve?" he hissed, breath stinking in her face._

 _She didn't answer and just as another fist came down, a voice shot across the room. "_ _останавливать_ _!" The attention swifted like a blown fuse to May's sharp Russian. "ждите я что-то более ценное чем то, что она знает."_

 _The man jerked up to face May and Skye didn't dare move from her position. Before he got too close to the agent, the "diversion" stopped him short. The seven industrial pipes exploded, allowing steam and gas to fill the air atop the men._

 _Skye didn't remember how she got to the top of the stairs as Simmons dragged her behind them. Gun fire and shouting exploded in the warehouse, thundering in her ears. Once they got the door open, Skye caught a glance at May, who had made her way across the room, away from the rest of the group, taking down two Russian officers at once, taking out a third with his partner's bullet._

" _MAY!" she called after her, but the warrior didn't glance over her shoulder._

Coulson looked tired as he wiped his face with a handkerchief and tucked it back into his pocket. Skye caught sight of a tiny Captain America shield stitched carefully onto the corner and forced back a tiny smile.

"And the chip?"

Fitz cleared his throat awkwardly, glancing down at his toes. "Yeah, we lost that too."

"We shouldn't have left without May," Skye said, "we should have helped her escape too."

"Please, you would have just gotten in her way. She could be anywhere, sir," Ward said under his breath. "Should we call in backup?"

"No," he said finally, "May can handle herself. We give her six hours before we call HQ."

* * *

It only took five before she made contact.

She made it up the cargo ramp before any of them could react

"Shoot me with that Ward and you'll not like where I shove it," she growled, moving up the plane's incline. Blood splatters stained her cheek and large splotches of red stained her clothes.

"MAY!"

"Wheels up in five," she snapped, moving around Ward and Coulson.

"You okay?" Ward moved towards her, concerned.

"Hey, hey, hey," Coulson said, stopping her short from continuing walking back into the plan. His eyes were huge with concern. "Slow down, talk to me. What happened with Alkaev and the chip?"

May's hand slipped into her leather jacket, now ruined with blood and sliced down the side, and pulled out the thin, square chip. "Prep the plane. I need a shower," she ordered, tossing the chip to Fitz who fumbled it, "and less noise."

A thin, but definite blood trail followed her black army boots.

"She needs medical attention," Ward said under his breath as he followed Coulson through the plane. The others scrambled out of their way.

"Leave her alone, Ward."

It was clear that was an order.

But Coulson followed the Asian warrior to the start of the plane, fully aware of the rest of the team still following him, whispering loudly amongst themselves.

"May, talk to me," he called into the door.

Only a few seconds without a response made him try again. "Let me stitch you up, please," he said, resting his head on the door separating them. He didn't meet the rest of the group's look.

"I can handle myself, Coulson."

May's voice sounded far away.

"Sir, at the rate she was bleeding, she could have lost at least a pint of blood, maybe more."

This information just seemed to irk Coulson even more and his hand found the doorknob. He knew as well as the other that it would be locked. He took an agitated breath and ran a hand over his face.

"May!"

"Coulson, I'm fine."

"Damn it, Melinda, I will not let you bleed out in front of me again!"

Whatever the rest of the team had expected, it wasn't that. Even Ward's face echoed the shock the rest were feeling. The use of her Christian name even seemed to make Coulson blink in surprise. For a moment there was no sound from within the locked room and then the door clicked open and the Specialist appeared.

She leaned against the doorframe, eyes boring into Coulson's face. "You've gotten pushy," she remarked dryly, the glare evident in her eyes and tone. She led him to the lab without him having to ask. His hand steadied the small of her back as she gracefully hoisted herself onto one of the lab counters. Without saying anything, Simmons quietly busied herself preparing the stitches.

"Everyone else out," Coulson snapped. "Ward, get this plane out of here."

Skye looked like she was going to argue, but Ward put a hand on her shoulder and she begrudgingly followed her S.O. out of the glass doors with a pout.

May shed her leather jacket, revealing a blood soaked black shirt. She breathed in sharply as the fabric caught on the already dried blood. "Easy," Coulson said quietly, gently manipulating the cloth and helping it over her head, exposing the wounds of the open air.

A small gasp escaped Simmons. Her ribs were already turning black and blue in the harsh lighting from the bulbs. An array of cuts, some deeper than others, littered her skin mixed what seemed to be small electrical burns.

Coulson's jaw tightened as he moved a step back, allowing Jemma to clean the wounds.

"The Russians always were butchers, never had any style."

Simmons' eyes dilated with May's nonchalant tone at the torture wounds and looked back at Coulson, lost. He wasn't paying her attention to her. Instead, guilt seemed to melt off his face like hot wax as he looked her up and down.

"These might scar," Simmons said quietly, stitching them closed fluidly.

"They won't," both Coulson and May said at the same time. A blush appeared on the biochemist's face, but she didn't remark on it.

"That was way out of line," May said quietly, her eyes watching Coulson who was staring raptly at Simmons as she assessed May's injuries.

"It's my new chance of living," he said dryly, giving her a smile, "it gives me a heightened sense of wanting those I care about to stay alive."

May jumped slightly as Simmons ran a hand over one of the bruises. The doctor cringed apologetically. "Sorry."

"It was a trap," May said conversationally, "the Russian diplomat sold us out. Before the buyer flipped Alkaev found out. I _told_ you we should have put someone inside instead of monitoring the buy."

"But you got them out," he prompted her, watching an almost unnoticeable light flicker in her eyes. Coulson laced his fingers with her gently. May didn't seemed surprised by the action and didn't move from the top on the countertop.

Simmons muttered something about more hydrogen peroxide as she scurried out of the room as quickly as she could, running into the Fitz and Skye behind the glass doors, watching the encounter closely.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice tightening slightly, "I said it wasn't a combat op, and it wasn't supposed to be."

For a moment, her eyes avoided his and Coulson's breath was baited. He wasn't quite sure how she would respond. She was focused on her breathing. He had known her long enough to see her calming her heart rate and watched as he chest rose and fell.

"I couldn't just leave them there."

Her voice was tight.

A small smile lit his face. From across the room and the glass, it looked sad to the onlookers.

"No, you were always selflessly fearless."


	3. Training of Sacrifice

_Author's Note_ _:_ Thank you to tdance, beanie0700, Ezra96, Guest, MelindaTheCalvaryMay (awesome name, by the way), alice jonas, and Guest. I really appreciate you taking the time to let me know what you think! Here's another longer part. I wanted to do a piece later in the series after Ward left and May had begun training Skye as her S.O.

Feed the writer's creative hunger. Let me know what you think it—good or bad. I love all feedback and would love if you guys have some suggestion for upcoming parts. Please review, even it's really simple and easy like "update soon".

 _Episode Tag_ : None

* * *

" _ **You told me you were ready for combat! That you had my back."**_

" _ **Don't ever doubt it."**_

* * *

 _PART THREE: Training of Sacrifice_

A scream erupted from Skye's lips. She reached for her S.O.'s body as it fell backwards towards the ground. Her mind short wired and she couldn't think. The slicing crackle gunfire echoed in her ears.

May didn't make a sound.

She blinked rapidly, looking from the now dead body across the room to the growing blood stain on her chest as she slumped against the wall of the abandoned house.

She seemed surprised.

"Oh my god, oh my god," Skye said over and over as she moved towards her. The hacker's eyes kept darting between the gun that had landed next to May's left hand and the dead HYDRA agent across the warehouse, now looking blankly out of empty eyes, a bullet puncturing their forehead.

The HYDRA agent who had been aiming at Skye.

" _If you're going to shoot, you shoot to aim. You never know if you're going to get another shot. You should only need one."_

Tears streamed her face as she tried to press on the growing wound. May still hadn't said made a sound. "It's going to be okay, it's all going to be fine," Skye began to babble. Her hands tremored like an earthquake as she tried to stem the bleeding. May's hand moved to wrap around her trainee's wrist, steadying them.

"Skye…" her voice seemed to waver, "Secure the crystals before … the rest of HYDRA shows up."

"No," she whispered, vehemently shaking her head, "I'm not going to leave you."

"Skye," she said, her voice more like her normal tone this time, "that's an order."

Skye doesn't remember tearing herself away from her S.O. and trying to try up the gifted blue crystals in one of the boxes next to the HYDRA agent before moving back to her mentor. She shoved the crystals into the bag at her side and felt a surge of hopelessness grab her.

She could not lose May.

"Oh my god, oh my god."

"MAY!"

Coulson burst through the door, followed by Trip, guns raised threateningly. Upon the fight of the fallen pilot, Coulson rushed to her side and pushed Skye away as he knelt in the growing pool of blood that reflected off the eerie light emitted from the bulbs in the house. Fear flooded off his face as the knee of his pants became soaked in her blood. He turned to glare at Skye off to the side accusingly.

"What did you do?"

"A.C.?" Skye's voice quivered as she fell back on her heels and allowed their leader to lean over May. She had never heard his voice like that before. His normal calm, smooth voice was gone and this new one was alien, sharp, angry.

Trip's hands were gentle, but firm as he helped her to her feet. Her once white floral shirt was sticky with May's blood. "Come on, girl, easy," he said gently, "talk to me. Are you hurt? What happened?"

"No, I—I'm fine. May…He tried to shoot me, but—but May got in the way."

Trip knelt down with Coulson on the other side of May. "We need to get her to the medics now, before it's too late. Looks like a direct hit to the chest, could have ruptured the heart. No exit wound."

The underlying silent consequences of what he was saying wasn't lost on Coulson. "Skye, go find FitzSimmons. Now!"

"Phil." May looked panicked now, grabbing out at Coulson, her eyes darting around the room like she didn't recognize where she was. "Phil, where's the little girl?"

A flash of pain echoed over the Director's face.

He brushed a tendril of dark hair out of her face. "Just relax, Melinda, you're going to be fine," he said, not letting go of her hand.

"The little girl, where's the girl?"

She moved to try and get up only to falter and cough fiercely, a rusty red stain appearing on her lips. "Hey, hey," he called to her, pushing her back down to the ground as Trip put a hand on her shoulder, reinforcing Coulson's hold.

"Sir? I don't understand," Trip said under his breath. His large chocolate eyes were wide with concern.

Coulson jerkily met his gaze.

"She's…she's not here."

"Sir?"

His heart was wrenching in his chest and he almost couldn't get the words out. "She's not here. She's…in Bahrain."

The flash of understand in the dark skinned agent's eyes lasted only a second as Simmons and Skye burst through the door, with Fitz only a few paces behind.

"What happened?" the biochemist demanded kneeling next to Coulson, taking over compression for Trip.

"Shot to the chest," Coulson said, "do something, please!"

May seemed to be struggling to breath and each word she managed to get out sounded like she was choking. "The girl! Coulson, you have to help her."

"The girl is fine, Melinda," he said clearly, trying to gain her focus from around the room. He squeezed her hand, their fingers intertwined. "You're not in Manama anymore. There's been an accident."

She didn't seem to hear him.

Simmons seemed to be panicking at the sight of May on ground. Her bouncy bob curls seem dull as she looked up and down May, looking for a cause of the profuse bleeding.

"She's still awake, how is she still awake?"

"What does that mean?" Coulson demanded.

"I don't know! She's lost too much blood to be conscious. May? May can you hear me?" Jemma leaned over her and checking her pulse. Her face smoothing over as if the information was running full speed on the mind.

The Specialist was still panicked, eyes not seeming to register to the rest of her team around her. "The little girl, we have to get the little girl."

Confusion washed over the scientist's face.

"She's in shock. The bullet looks like it one of the main arteries leading to the heart and it's bleeding uncontrollably. We need to get her to a medical facility now," Simmons order, standing. "Why are you all standing there like that? We have to move now! She's running out of time."

It was Fitz who pointed it out.

"But who's going to fly the plane?"

* * *

The helicopter that came a half an hour later almost didn't make it in time.

Natasha Romanoff jumped off the chopper as Coulson appeared in the doorway, a dying Melinda May in his arms. "Simmons had to do a crash thoracotomy in the field and try to tie off the vessels to the half of her heart that was damaged. She's already lost about a fourth of her blood volume and we didn't find the bullet. We need to get her out of here now."

"She's awake!" the red headed shrieked at Coulson, helping move her friend into the back of the helicopter where she had already assembled a gurney.

"We didn't have any drugs or sedation and she was still awake after she was shot," Simmons said hotly, "there was nothing I could do."

"We can be at Bethesda in 15 minutes," Romanoff called over the chopper's propeller. "Hamilton will stay and fly back the rest of your team."

A blood stained Simmons climbed onto chopper followed Coulson. The three were gone before the team could even realize just how had just flown off with the rest of their team. Romanoff moved back to open bay where May was. Coulson still hadn't let go of May's hand and seemed to be fixated on the rise and fall of her chest.

Assessing the damage to her old time friend, the blood covering almost every inch of her skin, the open chest wound and thread still coming out of her chest cavity. Through her erratic, flickering eyes, she seemed to recognize Romanoff.

"Nat?" Her voice sounded unlike her own.

"Hey," she greeted her, "damn, May, you look like a bit of a hot mess," Romanoff said with a wry smile.

Melinda looked confused. "I—you're not supposed to be here? The girl? Where's the little girl?"

Something ugly flashed in the Black Widow's eyes.

She turned towards Coulson. "You and I are going to have a long serious conversation about what she can and cannot handle after this, Phil," Natasha growled in his ear, moving to perch herself on the gurney next to May, a hand on her ankle.

He sent her a dark look, but didn't respond.

Simmons rummaged through the first aid kit in the side of the helicopter. "I have something than will put her out. It could help them with the shock, should I—"

"Do it!" Romanoff and Coulson said together.

Simmons jumped at the shout and scurried to the side of May. She made quick work of uncapping the needle and inserting the line.

"It should take effect any second. Just relax, May," Simmons said gently with a forced smile, "everything will be sorted out in a jiffy." May seemed to be trying to fight the sedation and Coulson drew closer to her.

"No—we can't leave her there."

"We're going back and find the little girl, okay Melinda, Natasha and I will do that, you just try and keep breathing for us, okay?"

* * *

"Do you think she's going to be okay?" Skye's voice quivered as she sank lower into the plastic hospital seat. She looked like a mess, covered in splatter blood, with red rimmed eyes, messy hair and tear streaks on her cheeks.

"She's Agent May, the Calvary, tough as nails. I'm sure she'll be right as rain in a day or two," Fitz said, trying and failing to sound upbeat.

"It's all my fault."

Skye's head dropped into her hands and she felt tears threaten to fall.

 _Control your emotions. They're volatile, useful, but only if you know how to properly channel them._

"You can't think that way," Trip said, put a hand on her knee. Jemma nodded and moved over a seat to wrap an arm around her shoulder.

"Trip's right. May would have taken a bullet for any of us. It's who she is. This is not your fault," Jemma echoed with a sad smile on her lips. "We've done everything we could have."

"Did you see the look on Coulson's face when you cut her chest open?"

Skye's eyes perked up from her hands as the rest of the team turned into the conversation. "There was no other choice. If we didn't stem the bleeding, May would have died on the ground in that warehouse," Fitz pointed out, "he knew that."

"Something happened between all of them, including Agent Romanoff. You should have seen them in the chopper," Simmons said resting her head on her knees. "I thought Agent Romanoff was going to hit Coulson."

"Why?" Trip said interestedly.

"Because he never learned to tell her _no_."

All of the team jumped to attention as the red headed Russian folded her arms in front of them. "May is out of surgery." A collective breath was released and despite her best efforts, Skye allowed a few tears to escape. "But she flat lined on the table and is in a coma. They can't pull her out of it, but they're optimistic."

"Can we see her?" Skye said, jumping up from the chair eagerly.

Romanoff looked up and down once and Skye couldn't make out what the expression was on her face. "Coulson's with her now. You can rotate in one at a time. Doctor's don't want to overcrowd her."

Skye felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude when the others nodded for her to take the first visit. She followed Romanoff through the white, sterile ICU hallways. "Don't blame yourself," the red head said smoothly as she walked through the thorns of nurses.

"I—what?"

She glanced back with a slight smirk on her face. "Your guilt. Don't hold onto it. It'll just make her mad. In May's eyes, it was her decision to move you out of the way. She's your S.O. and she's going to protect you at all costs."

Skye frowned suspiciously. "How do you—"

"She talks about you sometimes. You seem to be the only homeless, foster kid with abandonment issues, yet still smart and witty going-to-be field agent in the bunch out there. She's just in there," she said shortly, nodding towards the last door on the wing where Skye could see the back of Coulson's head. She raced towards them, stopping short in the door. Her breath taken away by the sight of her S.O. unmoving in the whites of the hospital bed.

"Oh my god," Skye breathed feeling her stomach bottom out.

"They assure me that it looks worse than it is," Coulson remarked her from beside May's bed. His hand was wrapped around her, tangled amongst the wires hooked up to their resident warrior. "It's good she's breathing on her own already."

Skye felt like an entire building was sitting on her chest.

"She—she said May was in a coma?"

"She's come out of one before. She'll do it again."

Coulson's eyes softened at the broken look on her face. "Come sit with her. It feels better when you can actually see she's still breathing."

Skye padded against the room and gently sat on the edge of the bed, careful to not touch the woman lying comatose.

"You're right," Skye said after a moment, "it does help."

"I told you."

"Are you okay, A.C.?" Skye asked, looking up at him, noticing how much older he seemed. The defined wrinkles around his eyes looked deeper and the bags under his eyes were darker.

"Honestly?" he said exhaling loudly. "I'm afraid she's going to wake up in the confusion Simmons put her out in and I have nothing to put her at ease."

"Bahrain?"

The word seem to frighten the training agent now. Instead of the curiosity, awe, even agitation at the mention of legend, the only expression the name brought to Skye's face now was fear.

Coulson inclined his head. "The mind is a strange thing," he said with a shrug. "The doctors don't know why she was able to stay awake after losing that much blood volume or through Simmons' surgery. They think it could be linked to the coma, though."

" _Don't you worry about, I don't know,_ dying _every time you on a mission?"_

" _Never. The doubts distract you from doing your job. If you don't know you can make it home, if there's even a sliver of doubt in you, then that's when you make mistakes, in the hesitation. Fear is a normal response and being able to function in it, with it, is a part of the job. When your time comes, there won't be anything you can do about."_

"She's kind of amazing, isn't she?"

Coulson smiled and opened his mouth to respond, but as Romanoff led the others in and Skye moved off the bed to let them closer to May.

"She's so tiny!" Fitz declared after coming inside, "how did we not know that May was _that_ tiny?"

Simmons immediately pounced upon her medical file and poured over all the information and Trip stood by, guarding by the rest of the team, holding the vacant spot of the one who needed the most watching over in the moment.

Romanoff didn't have the heart to kick them out as they all drifted off to sleep one by on and she guarded the door. Coulson didn't remember falling asleep the rocker next to the bed until he jerked awake, finding two large, dark eyes watching him.

"You're awake," she croaked with a smirk. "Your snoring was too loud. I was going to poke you, but I'm all tangled."

Relief flooded his system on overload.

"Melinda, thank god," he whispered. She looked awful, he decided, but wonderful for someone who had just been shot and had heart surgery. "You should have woken us when you came out of it. How are you feeling?"

"Like I got shot."

He couldn't help but smile broadly at her usual blunt sarcasm. He reached up and squeezed the hand he was holding. "You gave me a heart attack."

"You're the one who cut my chest open in the middle of a warehouse."

A breathy laugh escaped him. "You…you remember?"

The beep on the heartrate monitor told him all he needed to know, but he was happy for her answer anyways. "Bits and pieces…everything was _jumbled_."

Skye muttered something under her breath and stirred on the bed near May's feet where she had fallen asleep. Coulson moved to get to his feet. "Here, I'll move her for you."

"No, leave her."

The Asian agent glanced fondly down at her trainee.

"May…" Coulson began.

"It's fine, Phil, really don't wake her. Just let her sleep, I don't mind."

* * *

Later, when he and Romanoff were the only ones still awake at their vigil and May had fallen back asleep (after a long lecture from Natasha), the phone of the plastic, white table buzzed, lighting up the room. Coulson answered the device without checking the caller ID and when a strong Chinese accent spoke, he wasn't surprised.

"Tell me, Phillip, what kind of trouble have you and my daughter gotten into now?"


	4. Melinda

_Author's Note_ _:_ Thank you to tdance, beanie0700, Ezra96, Guest, MelindaTheCalvaryMay, and Scarl3tWitch for their reviews. I really appreciate you taking the time to let me know what you think! It always makes me smile.

It's definitely my favorite part I've written so far. I'm considering making it into a larger, standalone piece, but I want to know everyone's thoughts on it first.

Feed the writer's creative hunger. Let me know what you think it—good or bad. I love all feedback and would love if you guys have some suggestion for upcoming parts. Please review, even it's really simple and easy like "update soon".

 _Episode Tag_ : 2.13 " _One of Us_ "

* * *

" _ **Oh, he makes her laugh. Clearly, she still likes him and have you seen the way he looks at her?"**_

" _ **Yeah I have eyes, Jemma, of course I've seen it."**_

* * *

 _PART FOUR: Melinda_

"And I have another reason now. Her photo's on my desk."

He didn't mean to hurt her, but he knew that when the almost undetectable surprise reflected off her face that he shouldn't have said the first thing that came to mind. He could always tell her knee jerk reactions to pain, even before Bahrain, though her responses changed, even towards him, even more hidden, protected after the incident.

The way she stops breathing for even the shortest of moments to gain control. The light in her eyes dimming. A protective curtain that she let fall between her soul and the rest of the world to hide her hurt.

His throat tightened as he got into the car. The smell of leather cleaner and ammo stung at the inside of his nose as he rested his hands against his brief case. He watched her shrinking form as they drove out of the compound.

He felt the same drowning feeling as the first time she walked away.

It took minutes before he realized that the agent in the front of the car was speaking to him. He looked young, a fuzz ball of blonde, orange hair and a button up shirt. "long, Doctor Gardner?"

Andrew cleared his throat and turned his focus to the front of the car. "I'm sorry, Agent—"

He blushed a little in the rearview mirror and responded with, "Fitz, sir. I'm the engineering part of Coulson's team. I work with Agent May on Agent Coulson's team."

Andrew could clearly heard the admiration and undertones of awe in the man's utterance of his ex-wife's name, but it seemed the scientist's curiosity won out in the end. "I was just wondering how—how long you were married to Agent May?"

"A little under nine years," he said honestly, watching the interest and excitement grow in Fitz's eyes. An exuberant expression lit up his face in the rearview mirror.

"So you all go married when she was almost finished in the Academy?"

Andrew chuckled and leaned back in the leather seat coolly. "I'm afraid that's classified, Agent Fitz."

The man's eyes grew wide and Andrew fought back another chuckle, but the ploy seemed to cut off anymore probing into his ex-wife's background and personal information. Despite their disagreement on how their marriage ended, he wouldn't give up her personal secrets. Especially when he knew the conversations that would follow their revelation would pain her.

He felt the full weight of the day as he unlocked his office and set his things down in one of the spare chairs. His desk as a gift from his parents after his acceptance into the University as a tenured professor; mahogany wood with silver pattern inlays.

He dropped into his chairs and noticed a growing stack of essays to grade and emails to return. His assistant had left a detailed list of phone calls to return and he shoved the pad of paper away without looking over a single one.

His eyes fell to the picture frame in the corner of his desk.

" _Girlfriends, pics? Aren't you a little old for that?"_

Melinda rarely reminded him of the woman she was before Bahrain during the divorce process and in the years following their separation, he had never forgotten the devastation that the one fall day had caused him and his family.

The shattering effect on the person he had adored.

But today she stood on the University's courtyard, as mysterious and breathtaking as the day he had seen her in the bar they had met. She had been undercover, of course, but that hadn't stopped him. And in the kitchen of the airplane today, she seemed lighter, responsive even.

Something had changed.

He rubbed his eyes and opened them slowly, feeling a migraine coming on from all this nostalgic thought. His gaze fell on the frame Melinda had been so preoccupied with during her earlier visit. A small smile lit his features. She always was the most observant person he had ever met. He remember trying to explain to his very traditional mother that he planned to marry a spy who came from a long line of famous spies.

The frame was old, the metal frame aging from use and reuse. The photo, however, was just as old as is case. The inhabitants were both smiling. A much younger Andrew, suit and tie, looked adoringly down at the other person in the frame.

Her porcelain skin was dazzling in the light of the camera. She was looking towards the lens, as if she knew it was there, trying to capture their private moment. Her obsidian hair was loose around her shoulders, curling slightly around the shoulder blades. Her large dark eyes refracted the light around them, and even now he remembered how mesmerizing they seemed in that moment. The red wedding dress was her mother's. He's never imagined that she'd ever wear it. But he learned more than one thing about her that day.

But it was her smile that he always would stare after. Not the fake one she would flash to try and reassure people that she was fine. (She was always _fine_.) Or the one that would ensnare the prey she was tracking undercover. It wasn't her usual smirk, rather one of those rare smiles he could always coax out of her. The kind that even now, after all this time, would make his heart stop and others melt at the sight of it.

He missed Melinda's smile.

He missed Melinda.


	5. Caged Loyalty

_Author's Note_ _:_ Thank you to Guest and beanie0700 for their reviews. I really appreciate you taking the time to let me know what you think!

I'm really proud of this part. I think it really captures just who Melinda is and the traits that she's proud of and takes to heart. I think it's the strongest I've written.

Feed the writer's creative hunger. Let me know what you think it—good or bad. I love all feedback and would love if you guys have some suggestion for upcoming parts. Please review, even it's really simple and easy like "update soon".

 _Episode Tag_ _:_ 2.15 _"One Door Closes_ "

* * *

" _ **Why are**_ **you** _ **here?"**_

" _ **Coulson."**_

* * *

 _PART SIX: Loyalty_

She hadn't moved since they had thrown her in the box. Her blood had boiled over at the sight of being contained in the same cell Ward had. The traitor's cell. She refused to touch the bed—his bed—and moved to the far corner of the cell where she had calmly folded herself into a meditative pose where she could see any coming attack.

The hard wall was cold against her back, but she didn't mind as it kept her alert. Dozens of people walked by, some nervously watching her from behind the clear electric glass, others focused on inventory of the base.

"Ah, Agent May, I see you've woken up."

She bit her tongue sharply to calm her angry heartrate at the sight of plump and overdressed Gonzalez. She had never liked the man. He was seated in a chair in front of her, fingers twiddling with his cane, watching her with his head tilted slightly to left like she was a curiosity.

May gave no indication she heard him.

He sighed and leaned back in the plastic chair he had plopped down in front of her cell. "Agent May, you know how this goes. We can do this the easy way, or we can do this the hard way."

It took a great amount of self-control not to roll her eyes at _that_.

He droned on about Coulson and his plans. In the days following, she couldn't distinguish the different conversations from each other; in the end they were all the same. She tuned him out, a skill she had learned early on from her S.O. in the Academy.

She focused on something else with his every visit: doing every move in the series of her morning tai chi in her head, replaying conversations she and Coulson had during their long nights out on their first missions, collecting ingredients for Chinese recipes her mother used to make around the holidays, anything but the fact Coulson was out there alone without backup.

So she kept still.

And she kept quiet.

* * *

After a week of her barely moving an inch, they send Jemma inside. She didn't move when they pushed her through the perimeter of the cell, armed guards pointing automatic guns at her as she blankly looked over at the tiny scientist.

She supposed she should feel honored that they thought she was that much of a threat.

She turned her attention to Jemma who seemed like a quaking, tiny mouse. She seemed ruffled by the excessive force, May didn't move from her corner as Simmons straightened her blouse and moved to come and kneel next to her.

"May, oh my god."

Over Simmons' shoulder, May saw Bobbi and Gonzalez watching carefully from the corner of the room. Gonzalez leaning on his cane, intently watching their interaction.

"Simmons," May grabbed her wrist to stop her and felt a wave of dizziness wash over her as the sudden motion. "Jemma, stop."

The girl's eyes got wider. "May, you're sick," she shuffled through the large doctor's bag she had been thrown inside with. "Here, let me help. You're heart's metabolic rate is entirely too slow, even for your normal, relaxed levels. And this certainly isn't relaxed. When was the last time you ingested anything?"

May's head spun trying to keep up with woman's quick English. It was getting harder to convert from English and her native Mandarin and back at her normal speed. Her chest burned as she forced herself to try and breathe, to move. She managed to grab Simmons' hand before it reached her skin with needle.

"Simmons—no, stop."

"No, really, it'll make a big difference in your ability to—"

" _Jemma_ , if you don't stop, I'm going to have to hurt you."

The girl reeled back immediately.

Shock and fear echoed off her face as she sat back on her heels. May could see tears pricking the backs of her brown eyes. Somewhere in her chest, she felt bad, but if it kept Coulson and the others safe, she could handle it.

"You helped Coulson escape."

May inclined her head at the confirmation of facts both women already knew. "I have details about Fury's toolbox, if you have some way of contacting him, I could brief him about the situation, about you. I—I promise I won't tell."

Her eyes anxiously locked onto May's face.

"You're a bad liar, Simmons," May said gently.

"The room's bugged," she revealed, her voice wavering terribly.

"I know."

"They said they would let you out if I got you to tell me where you sent Coulson." She looked miserable, May observed. Her hair lacked its normal youthful bounce in its curls, her face looked more washed out, and her eyes drooped.

"Fitz left."

"You should have gone with him."

May was careful to keep her voice gentle and soft as fatigue overwhelmed her.

"I can't just leave," she said, "someone needs to stay here for when everything goes back to normal."

May smiled inwardly at her innocence even after everything that had happened, the collapse of S.H.I.E.L.D., Fitz's accident, her uncover stint at HYDRA, Ward. Another dizzy spell made her close her eyes and rest her head back on the cold wall supporting her.

"May, you have to eat something."

She had found tiny puncture marks on the first day they tried to feed her, both on the water bottle's lid and the underside of the granola bar wrapper. After that she knew it wasn't safe.

"Sodium thiopental."

"What?"

"Sodium amytal. Scopolamine."

May's eyes flickered open to see confusion on the young scientist's face. "All are barbiturates, sometimes used in third world countries for anesthesia, but have been replaced in the United States. I don't understand. What do they have to do with…"

Understanding dawned on her face and her cheeks flamed red with anger.

May glanced up to meet the eyes Gonzalez.

"They forget who they're dealing with."

* * *

"You're handling her wrong," Bobbi snapped as the Director entered. He didn't seemed fazed as he calmly sat down to the monitor and took a large gulp of water from the table. "You can't force Melinda May to talk. She's going to die of malnutrition if you leave her in there. She caught on to your sly plan of trying to dose her."

He turned towards her finally. "If she's going to die, it's of her own accord. S.H.I.E.L.D. hasn't touched her."

"She _is_ S.H.I.E.L.D.!" Bobbi snapped harshly.

* * *

Then they sent Bobbi.

The deception expert and interrogation master looked nervous as she approached cell and a foot away from the rectangular box. May was sure she looked bad. She was silent and there seemed to be a silent struggle for power.

Finally, Melinda won and Bobbi spoke.

"We can help you, May, just give me something, anything."

"I don't need your help."

"May…"

"Don't come here looking for absolution," May hissed, moving into a standing position to face the blonde agent, "you feel guilty for betraying us, deal with it."

"You know _nothing_ about the situation here, or what happened on that boat with HYDRA," Bobbi fired off loudly. She stalked outside the cell angrily like a lioness.

"I know _everything_ about loyalty."

May's dark eyes bore into her blue ones.

Bobbi gritted her teeth. "You let him escape," she refocused. May said nothing, just watched her impassively. There hadn't been a question.

"Where did you send him? One of your safe houses? I know you have safe holds on every continent. We could have resolved this peacefully. They're going to try and take him in with deadly force now."

"Do not pretend to have stake in this game, Agent Morse, you are no longer a part of this team. You're just a chess piece for the other team. And when the time comes for us to face off, Hunter will join us and we will protect him against you."

The blonde recoiled as if May had struck her.

"We know you know everything about his operation, May. You've worked together since the Academy, you've been his second in command since S.H.I.E.L.D.'s fall. You were his secret keeper."

May felt her heart spin and she stepped back from the fizzling glass. "Back at the Academy, they say the only person you couldn't read in interrogation is Natasha Romanoff," May said conversationally as she folded herself back into her corner. Bobbi's eyebrows contracted, confused.

"I was her S.O."

* * *

Another week later, all her energy was focused on trying to stay upright. She was no longer sure the cycles of days and nights. Her head almost always felt like it was spinning. The nausea was almost constant now. And her chest felt like it was on fire.

"Agent Simmons says she thinks you have a collapsing lung," Gonzalez said casually, "probably damaged in a previous fight and now doesn't have enough energy to continue healing itself. She estimates you have about 24 hours before you lose it."

"I'm pretty sure you can live with only one," she replied sarcastically.

The man growled in frustration. "Agent May, I have never met anyone with a smaller sense of self-preservation than you," he thundered. She smirked, but he continued, "so I've come with a peace offering."

He held up a standard S.H.I.E.L.D. operation summary folder and May felt the floor fall out from under her.

" _Where did you get that?"_

A cruel smile snaked onto his face and he sat down in the same chair he had occupied over and over again. The thick, heavy folder was worn. In large, bold letters it read:

 **MANAMA, BAHRAIN 2007**

 **CLASSIFIED: LEVEL 7**

May felt her stomach knot and her chest feel like someone had sliced it open. She knew it had nothing to do with malnutrition or her dying lung and everything to do what was in that text.

"I called in an old, old favor from an equally old friend. I'm tired of this song and dance, Agent May, and I'm sure you are too. I have dozens of agents upstairs vouching for you upstairs, furious that I'm keeping _The Calvary_ in a tiny twelve by twelve box."

"Don't call me that."

Her voice had lost most of its conviction as it was losing its lung and she struggled to breathe. It seemed to amuse Gonzalez.

"So here's how this is going to work, you tell me where you sent Coulson and the location of your safe houses and his, then I will give you this," he tapped the folder for sharp emphasis, "to do whatever you please with."

Coulson's dead body surrounded by the debris of the Battle of New York flashed to the forefront of her mind and the shards of her heart clenched painfully, slicing the insides of her chest.

"Go to hell."

He looked less than impressed.

"Not the correct answer, Agent May."

May leaned back against the wall feeling the black dots around her eyes dance. _Breathe Melinda_ , _breathe_ , she told herself. _Focus on the movement. In and out. In and out. Push everything else away. As long as you're silent, Coulson and the others are safe._

"If you continue to ignore me, Agent, I'm going to sit here and read it to you."

* * *

Her escape party startled her out of an unconscious haze of Bahrain nightmares.

The assault of gunfight hotwired her body's natural response to danger and her eyes shot opened. Her muscles tensed as she tried to move to a standing position, feeling her chest burn more than ever before. "Damn it, Melinda, focus," she growled under her breath. She couldn't recognize either side fighting there was such chaos. Gun fire recoiled off her cell wall and she jerked back.

The edges of her blurred and by the time it cleared, a face was peering down at her. One she recognized.

"What's up, Mels."

 _Clint_.

She released the breath she didn't know she could even be holding. "Clint," she coughed, "what are you doing here?"

He smiled charmingly, turning slightly to the left to fire three shots through the hole he had puncture in the cell. "One of your duckling sent out the SOS, babe," he said, "and it's time for our exit plan."

He pulled her up with one hand, keeping a gun trained on the opening. The second he let go and her standing support and she crumpled.

Concern lit up his features and his eyes coursed over her. "Whoa there, Melinda? Hey, focus for me," he said as he caught her before she hit the floor. May's eyes went in and out of focus and for a moment the sound of gunfire seemed to fade. "All right, time to go, you are going to kill me for this later," he murmured as he easily hoisted her into his arms. "You're in charge of this."

Her reflexes cocked the gun without her mind even registering Clint shoving the Glock into her hands.

"There's the girl we know and love," he said, soothingly. "MARIA!" Out of the corner of her eye, May say Maria Hill turn at the sound of her name. "Time to go."

As Hawkeye turned the stairs, May jerked back at the gun's sudden recoil in her hand. Her eyes caught the sight of a man's body dropping to the ground behind them. Clint stopped short, glancing back at the now dead operative, his automatic weapon not far from his side. The stray bullet that had been aiming from May and Clint's backs missed and hit one of the computers.

"I forgot how much I like having you on my six, Mels."

Simmons screamed as one of Hill's guard grabbed her from where she had ducked under an overturned table and flung her over his shoulder. The gunfire exploded overhead and that was the last thing she remembered.

* * *

May was aware of someone's presence in the room with her. From their breathing, she didn't recognize anyone she knew closely, not Coulson or anyone on the team, not Clint or Natasha.

She felt her muscles tense and as the breathing got closer, she moved. Without opening her eyes, she twisted in the air, catching the target by curprise as her legs wrapped around their neck. She flipped, landing hard on the ground and heard a large crack from the other side of the room, which told her that her attack had been spot on.

May's eyelids shot open as she and her victim hit the ground. Confusion rebounded in her head as she recognized a bleeding Tony Stark in front of her.

"Hey, hey what's going on?"

Maria Hill and Clint burst into the room to find May on the ground, the medical machines blaring codes loudly, and Stark getting to his feet, clutching his nose. "What just happened?" Hill said, looking between the two.

"Well I guess you weren't exaggerating, Hill," Stark said, stemming his bleeding nose as he climbed to his feet and Hawkeye helped May to her feet, "we definitely want her on our team."

May looked from three, confused at just what was going on here, and opened her mouth, before she was cut off.

The door was thrown open again and Simmons appeared, looking much less stressed than she had the last time May had seen her. "You are officially the worst patient ever," Simmons declaring marching through the room, stopping short at the sight of Hawkeye supporting May and the Avenger's blood nose all over his white button down shirt, "what happened?" she asked cautiously.

"It was an accident, I was too close and I didn't realize she was coming out of it," Stark said, raising a hand slightly in defense.

"I don't understand—how, what's going on? Where is Coulson and the others? Where are we and where is Simmons?"

She frowned. The three of them were looking at her strangely. "What language was that?" Stark began, but Maria shook her head as well.

"More than two that I recognized," she confirmed.

"One language at a time, Mels, slow down," Clint said calmly sitting her on the edge of the bed.

Simmons bit her lip before, "She was without down a lung for quite a while and that cut off half of her brain's normal oxygen count. Her brain could be trying to reconnect all her language centers, probably in the order she learned them."

"English wasn't ever her best language, anyways," Clint spouted and May glared at him, rewarding her with a smile.

"Měi gèrén de ānquán," he said phonetically, frowning slightly. Hill bit back a giggle at his face. May wrinkled her nose at his pronunciation, but nodded.

"Fāshēngle shénme? Wǒmen zài nǎlǐ?"

She looked over at Simmons who beamed at the attention, "May, we tried to re-inflate your lung, but you seem to still be having trouble getting the converted oxygen to your brain since flow was cut off so long. That could be why you're having trou—"

"Maybe a little less words, doc," Clint said with a wink. He turned to May, "Zhòngbìng. Cánpò dì fèi. Méiyǒu kòng qì nòng dé dànǎo."

"Sī tǎ kè shuō wǒ bùshì gùyì yāo jí dào tā, dàn tā bù yìng gāi zhème róngyì jiàngdī tā de hòuwèi, shènzhì dāng tā rènwéi rén shì bù zìjué de," May reeled off, but Clint blinked rapidly, obviously lost.

"Okay, as fun as this cultural experience is, _you_ ," Maria said, looking at May, "need to be back in bed, and _you_ ," she looked pointedly at Clint, "obviously don't speak Mandarin. I'm going to get Stark cleaned up downstairs."

Before she made it to the door, May's hand caught her wrist. The ex-S.H.I.E.L.D. agent turned towards May. "Don't even think it," she told her, giving her hand a squeeze, "I owe you so many times I've lost count."

She and Stark disappeared down the stairs as Simmons turned around. "Get her back in the bed now, please," Simmons instructed, moving to adjust the machines. She fluidly reattached the pulled out tubes and monitors, much to May's glare.

May's hand grabbed Clint's arm.

"Coulson."

The intent of the English was clear because he just gave her his usual dazzling smile. "No idea, babe, you won't tell anyone of us and we've asked, several times. Which means you didn't tell them."

He put his hand over hers, the smaller one disappearing into the folds of the blanket under his larger one.

"He's safe for now. You did good, Mels."

* * *

May's eyes fluttered to find the moon at its full glory in the window and her eyes found a set of blue eyes intently watching her from the chair next to the bed.

"You're not supposed to be here," she said breathily.

Coulson smiled and straightened in the chair beside her bed. "Clint called," he said simply and she nodded in understanding. "I had to see you for myself."

"I'm fine," she brushed his off concern with an eye roll.

"Simmons said you almost died," he said quietly, his hand rubbing small circles mindlessly on the inside of her wrist. May wasn't even sure he consciously knew he was doing it.

His eyes searched her face for an answer to the question he didn't ask.

"I promised you did wouldn't happen again."

His eyes melted into hers and the unspoken part of the conversation was much louder than the silence that followed. Remnants of the weeks following Bahrain scrambled through both of their minds, her failed suicide missions, her attempts to disappear.

"I can't do this by myself, you know," Coulson said, carefully interlocking their fingers. The light from the window glinted off their clasped fingers, melting shadows onto their faces.

From right outside the door, Jemma was biting her lip to be quiet. "Is anyone else's heart breaking right now?" she whispered to immediately be "sshhed" by the Deputy Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Avenger.

"You guys know we can here you, right?" Coulson called out.


	6. Ducklings

_Author's Note_ _:_ Thank you to Nan119 and beanie0700 for their reviews on Part V. I really appreciate you taking the time to let me know what you think! It means more than you know.

I really like this part. Sorry, no Philinda on this one, but more on that coming up. I like to see the motherly side of Melinda that is so hidden.

Please, please, please, let me know what you think. I work off of reviews to plan out my future parts and one-shots and it's hard to do that without any constructive feedback or any feedback at all. I hope you enjoy Part VI "Ducklings".

 _Episode Tags_ : 1.6 "F.Z.Z.T.", 2.1 "Shadows", and 1.14 "T.A.H.I.T.I."

* * *

" _ **Why because you're defenseless? Like she was?"**_

* * *

 _PART SIX: Ducklings_

Jemma Simmons was not ashamed to say she was frightened. Terrified. Out of her mind with panic. After officers had fished her and Ward out of the water, they had jerked her from the specialist's arms and separated the two, throwing her into a detainment cell.

Foreign languages had never been her strong suit and their Spanish was loud and threatening. She knew they wanted to what was in the syringe that saved her life and why they were in the middle of the Atlantic with a parachute, but the only thing she could do was curl into a ball.

After an hour of screaming, they left her alone, par the one large guard outside her cell door, as if she could break through the concrete door. The man guarding her was huge and ugly. She had been dripping cold Atlantic water on the concrete floor and she could feel a chill settling into her bones.

In the back of her mind, she knew the team was looking for, but her current state seemed bleak. "Oh Jemma, why did you have to go into the field," she muttered to herself, rubbing her eyes with her still sopping wet sweater sleeve.

"No, you'll take me to her immediately. I don't care who your boss is."

She recognized that voice. Relief flooded through her and she couldn't stop the tears that sprung to her eyes.

 _May was here._

She wasn't surprised when a moment later the concrete and metal door swung open and the Chinese woman moved in. Jemma pounced on her the second she entered, her arms wrapping around the Specialist's neck like a boa constrictor.

Another wave of tears overtook her and she was very surprised the normally personal space wary and distant woman allowed her to hold on at all. Behind them, the guard moved towards them, hand moving towards the baton at his waist.

May seemed to be aware of this immediately. "Back up," May warned, the danger clear in her tone. The guard, clearly at least two times her size looked down at her warily, clearly knowing who she was, and took a distanced three steps back to the cell door.

"That's Juan," Jemma said with another sniffle, letting go of May's neck, "he doesn't talk much."

She swore she saw a smirk on May's face as she ordered behind her in Spanish, "Haz me una toalla. _Ahora_."

The guard immediately obeyed the woman's command. May kneeled in front of the younger woman, looking her up and down. "Are you all right?" she asked, inspecting her.

"They took Agent Ward," Jemma informed her, "I-I don't know where, they separated us before—"

"Coulson's getting Ward," May stopped her, "he attacked a guard and they moved him to a more secure location."

Simmons nodded and she felt more relief settle the knot in her stomach. "My foot won't stop shaking," she said with a small smile on her face, glancing down at her softly quaking loafer, which were now ruined.

"It's the adrenaline. It'll wear off in a few hours."

The scientist nodded. She knew that, of course, but it was nice to hear the older woman say it. A silence fell over the two. May's dark eyes kept checking and rechecking every part of the soaked agent.

"That was a pretty stupid thing to do, you know. Fitz is quite distraught over your tumble out of the Bus."

Her voice was gentle, but the words made Jemma blush. She glanced down at her feet. "I didn't want anyone else to get hurt."

She lifted a hand to tuck a waterlogged chunk of hair behind her ear only to find shaking fingers. May's hand took her wrist, stopping the tremors with gentle pressure. An overwhelming sense of calm washed over her.

"Next time, give us the choice of whether we'd be better off without you or being electrocuted by an alien virus."

Jemma's hazel eyes jumped up to May's large dark ones and she felt her throat close.

The guard was back with a loud clank of the metal doors and May moved to her feet accepting the blanket from the robust man. She wrapped the blanket around the scientist's tired shoulders and for the first time all day, Jemma Simmons felt safe.

* * *

Leopold Fitz was miserable.

And frustrated.

And angry.

Everything Simmons did made him want to scream.

It wasn't that she wasn't being helpful or kind or incredibly sweet. It was the look in her eyes every time she looked at him that made him so angry, he could choke her. Which he would, of course, never even fathom. But between Simmons' expectant looks and the unsuccessful physical therapy three times a day, he was tired of living this way.

He was staring at the ceiling muttering under his breath to himself when he saw her silhouette in the doorway.

"A-ggent May, hi."

His heart accelerated as she entered the room and sat on the end of his hospital bed. The dimmed lights of the quiet hospital wing and moonlight from the half closed window made her seem even more iridescent and mysterious.

He wasn't sure what he expected, but it wasn't the large hardback copy of " _2000 Leagues Under the Sea",_ a graduation gift from the Academy from his parents, one of the driving reasons for him to pursue science.

May didn't say anything and sat the book on the covers between them, intent clear.

"I-I c-can't."

May's eyes remained steady on his face. "Your three PhDs say differently," she said smoothly, an eyebrow raised.

He glared at her from across the bed.

He swore he saw a flicker of a smirk on her lips and he jerked the hardback off the covers which made the smirk even more evident to untrained eyes.

He made it through the first five words without stumbling.

His eyes flew to the specialist, embarrassment red on his cheeks, but the look in her eyes wasn't what he expected. There was patience and expectation, concern, but no pity. None of the pity that seemed to melt off the other members of the team's faces when they came to visit.

So he glanced back down at the page and tried again.

The second night she came back, she didn't say anything, merely handed him the book and let him turn the pages himself with shaky, uncoordinated hands.

The fourth night, he got so angry he threw the book against the wall.

"Th-is is a-a waste of…t-time!" He didn't understand May's lack of response. Simmons would have jumped or ducked, but May just watched him calmly, let him throw his tantrum and waited for him to finish. "Ya-you ca-can't f-fix this. Wh-why ev-ven bother."

He felt rage bubble in his chest, drowning him.

"I'm broken!" he shouted at her, angry tears streaking down his cheeks.

Something he couldn't describe flashed in the pilot's eyes.

"Every hero is."

Fitz couldn't explain if it was the look she gave him or the words she spoke, but something magical in her made the engineer turn back to the book he had haphazardly thrown against the wall and begin to read again.

* * *

Skye didn't know how hard it was to sneak with twelve stitches to the abdomen until she tried it in the middle of the night. She knew the others were asleep, but she couldn't doze off. After doing nothing all day, for weeks, she couldn't stand just sleeping.

Sneaking out of the ICU cube on the Bus was easy enough, Simmons didn't know her passcode (Fitz's birthday) was an easily guessed statistical possibility. She was on her way to the kitchen when she heard voice coming from the main screen room.

"—and I called in our favor at the Fridge to inquiry about the package."

"Surgical status?"

It was clearly May's voice talking to whoever was on the screen.

"They said he made it out of surgery, but was still in the ICU. It seems you fractured his skull in three pages, which was compressing his brain, as well as a collar bone, cheekbone, and nose. If he makes it through another day or so, he'll be moved to the Fridge. He may not be dead, but he definitely won't be on the cover of any magazines any more. Apparently brain surgery leaves nasty scars."

"What a pity."

Skye snuck a peek and had to clamp a hand over her mouth when she recognized the face on the screen talking to May. The red hair, pale skin, and bright green eyes were a dead giveaway for the Russian spy.

She knew how May valued her privacy and the specialist obviously didn't like her, and eavesdropping on a clearly private (probably classified) call wouldn't make their relationship better, so Skye was going to sneak back around to the kitchen the long way, until a question stopped her short.

"How's your Duckling holding up?"

Skye's breath was baited as she waited for May's answer.

"Doing better. Bored out of her mind."

There was a chuckle on the other end. "Naturally."

"The doctor thinks she should be up and walking by the end of the month. I keep sneaking her laptop back into the cube they have her holed up in. She's in recovery not isolation, but Simmons keeps taking it away. She hasn't figured out how it keeps getting back in there. Skye's strong though, she should make a full recovery."

Skye felt her chest swell with such a strong feeling an excitement, adrenaline, and warmth at once. She bit her lip to calm her racing heart and pressed her back against the wall, listening closely.

"And how are you holding up with all of this happening so close to…"

"Don't be a наседка, Nat."

May's voice was unnaturally soft.

"You saved this one, сестра, allow yourself that solace at least."

There was a moment's pause and Skye thought May lost her connection before— "Oh and Hill mentioned that they picked Morse to be the head of the welcoming committee for the package. I'm sure she'll be more than happy to see you've started the cake decoration early."

May chuckled and Skye felt her heart thump loudly at the noise. "Well if it can't be one of us, then I'm happy it's Bobbi," May responded.

"She'll keep us in the loop after London. All right, its morning here and I told Clint I would pick up him up bagels if he took the night shift. Next time, were in the same time zone we're going drinking and sparing."

"быть безопасным," May said and Skye could hear the smile in her voice.

"оставаться в контакте."

"You know it's rude to ease drop."

Skye had taken three steps to sneak away from the screen and May. Startled, she gasped, and lost her footing. She cried out as she felt her abdomen twist and a flame of fire go through her body. It was impossible for May to move as fast as she did. One moment she was in front of the screen and the next she had caught Skye before she hit the ground.

"Easy, easy," May was saying as Skye tried to breathe. "Let's get you back in bed."

The pain was subsiding to a more manageable rate by the time May helped her back into the ICU bed. Her forehead was sweaty and

"Let me see your stitches," May said grabbing a sterile suture set from the cabinet behind the bed.

"God, Simmons is going to kill me," Skye muttered under her breath as she lifted up her

"Focus on your breathing," May advised as she sat on the edge of the bed next to Skye, opening the suture kit.

"That was the Black Widow."

"You've pulled one of your stitches, probably from the fall."

"You _know_ the Black Widow?"

"Natasha was checking up on something for me."

" _Natas_ —you're on a _first name basis_ with—"

" _Agent Romanoff_ ," May cut in, "is a very valued and respected S.H.I.E.L.D. operative."

"You're a kill joy, you know that, right?"

May smirked. "Shut up while I fix your stitches before Simmons sees them." There was a playfulness in her tone that Skye hadn't heard before.

Her hands were fluid and precise as she cut the twist stitch and retied the "You're awfully good at this," Skye said lightly, "sure you're not a doctor?" May rolled her eyes.

"Were you uh…talking about Ian Quinn back there?" Skye bit her lip and watched the older woman for a response. May's hands didn't pause as they reapplied the bandages to the wound and dropped Skye's flannel shirt.

"Yes."

"Oh."

May's eyes met her face finally. "Quinn made it through surgery and it being moved to the Fridge where, after intensive interrogation, he will spend the rest of his life in a very tiny box under constant monitoring."

Cold relief ran down the back of her neck and she exhaled, leaning back on the pillows. "Ward said you almost beat him to death," she ventured slowly.

"Did he?" she remarked, raising an eyebrow. Her hands wrapped the suture kit and threw it into the trash. Skye frowned and tried a different approach.

"Do you always make classified phone calls to kick ass Avengers in the middle of the night?"

"My call to Agent Romanoff isn't classified nor is it any of your business."

"You were talking about me!"

May rolled her eyes. "Why were you out of bed against medical advice?"

Skye wrinkled her noise, "well I was kinda hoping there was some left of chocolate ice cream in the fridge. I know Coulson keeps a stash of Rocky Road in the back behind the month old frozen hot dogs."

"Ice cream, huh?"

* * *

hаседка: "mother hen"

сестра: "sister"

быть безопасным: "be safe"

оставаться в контакте: "stay in touch"


	7. Supervising Officer

_Author's Note_ _:_ Thank you to tdance, valerieee, and beanie0700 for their reviews on Part VI. I really appreciate you taking the time to let me know what you think! It means more than you know.

I'm expanding Part VI "Ducklings" to have more characters including Maria Hill, Natasha Romanoff, etc if you're interested in that. I've also started a May centered novel titled "Porcelain, Ivory, Steel" which has heavy Philinda and guest Avengers if you'd care to check that out. Chapter One is already up. I plan to continue all three at the same time.

Here's a light Part VII after some darker ones. All feedback and reviews are greatly appreciated.

* * *

" **You're gonna die and leave us hanging out to dry, you know that?"**

* * *

 _PART SEVEN: Supervising Officer_

Ward dropped Skye onto the mat again with a grunt. She grimaced as she looked up to the ceiling to find Ward looking down at her with a raised eyebrow. "You let your entire right side open to attack. _Again_."

She sighed. There were too many things to remember. The only thing she knew when Ward said go was that she couldn't remember a single thing he taught her. All she saw was Ward going after her.

"Yeah, well it's a lot to remember, Soldier-Boy, okay. Not all of us were trained to be perfect little assassins since birth, cut me some slack."

He moved to make a punch and Skye's arm moved to block it. "What's the matter now?" his tone was slightly impatient as he moved back into position and she scrambled to match his pace.

"Use your elbows and go for his throat."

Skye immediately turned on the mat, and looked up to find May's eyes on her from the upper balcony. She was aware that Coulson and the science twins had been watching a few of their session; Coulson to check on her progress and FitzSimmons because they found the sparring interesting, but not May.

"I'm not exactly sure that's the approach we should be teaching her, May." Ward sounded a mixture between amused and annoyed, though Skye wasn't sure why.

"Maybe, but you'd think twice about dropping her again, wouldn't you?"

The two spies eyed each other evenly in the silence before Ward set his jaw and waved his hand at the mat. The invitation was clear. He nudged Skye gently to the side and she grinned as May calmly descended down the spiral staircase.

"Oh this is going to be good," Coulson said excitedly from the side of the mat, "FitzSimmons, grab the snacks."

Skye chuckled as she watched May approach the mat. It was strange to see the woman out of her black leather jacket and boots. Without the extra height of the boots, Ward seemingly towered over her.

"You're too small to be on defense and without muscle memory, your only advantage is that you could be fast."

Ward made the first move. Weaving under his punches, May was on one side of him, then the other. "Your elbows are the hardest part of your body. No small bones, no major arteries that can be cut. If you punch Ward right now, the only thing you're going to do, _if you do it right_ , is break your hand."

Ward clearly smirked. Circling back around the mat, Ward's hand moved back to his chest and his feet grew a little faster. Skye's eyes never left May's figure. She seemed at ease as Ward circled her and then the two moved into action. Ward feigned and May jabbed once, then danced out of the way of another blow before blocking another punch with a side kick.

"Once you have your window, go hard for the throat or the base of the neck. You only need one shot to take someone down."

May's arm blocked his fist, hitting his arm out of the way and struck him once in the chest. Ward hit the mat hard, and groaned, rolling to his side. He glared up at her sideways. "Oh yeah, let's just teach her to fight dirty and cheat, so I just have to break all the bad habits later on."

"You're twice her size and have skills in three martial arts, with heavy weapons and combat training. How is that's not cheating?"

"Yeah Wall-E?" Skye called from the side folding her arms over her chest.

May took a step back and Ward moved to his feet. The air of teaching was suddenly gone and the tension in the room skyrocketed. Ward's face grew and May's only seemed to grow calmer.

"Okay guys, take it easy…" Skye's voice was high with uneasy concern.

The two circled each other and there was a heavy silence. "What's happening now, sir?" Jemma leaned forward from their position safely tucked out of the way from the sparring with Fitz.

"The lesson seems to be over. It looks as if Agents May and Ward are going to spar for real now."

"Why? They're on the same team."

Coulson's mouth twisted into a smile. "They're Specialists, Fitz. It's what they do."

The fight was a thousand times faster than anything Skye and Ward had ever tried. Her eyes struggled to separate the two as the moved around each other, weaving in and out like black shadows.

May was like a dancer, faster and more fluid than Ward. She twisted and turned like a snake and Skye didn't even understand how a body could bend like that, let alone at that speed. Ward seemed to struggling to keep up with her movements.

He was sturdier, cutting in low with punches and blocks. He jabbed, but it didn't stick, but he caught May's spinning side kick, flipping her away from him. Suddenly, May's legs caught around his neck and she twisted in mid-air. Ward went from throwing the Chinese woman to crashing into the mats with a loud crack. Skye winced as he groaned and May flipped back to her feet like she weighed nothing.

Skye's mouth opened and she jerked to her feet looking from her S.O. to the pilot. "Wha—how?"

"T-That's not standard form." Ward eyes were narrowed and he was struggling to regain his breathing. He moved slowly into a sitting position and May watched from passively. "Where did you train?"

May raised an eyebrow.

"Before S.H.I.E.L.D.," he snapped, knowing she knew exactly what he meant. "No one that's gone through Ops has that kind of advanced martial arts experience. Not even Romanoff."

May smirked and walked back off the mat back towards the cockpit.

"Who do you think taught Romanoff anything?" she called behind her shoulder.

Ward turned towards Coulson who had a large grin on his face. The older man conceded, "Native tribe in Brazil, a Shaolin temple, a Kidon unit with Mossad, and a mission in Morocco. Then there's Secretary May—"

"May's mother?" Simmons' head popped up at that. "You know May's mother."

"Of course," he answered with an odd frown, "And who knows what secrets those two have. Don't know about the rest of them." Grant growled under his breath and stood up wincing and he massaged his bruising neck.

"So, Mr. Supervising Officer, when does training to be a badass like May start?" Skye asked lightly skipping back onto the mat with a cheerful smirk on her lips.

"Shut up. You heard her, go in fast and look for vulnerable anatomic exposure points," Ward said impatiently flexing his back and moving back into his ready position.

"I thought you said that was—"

" _Now_."


End file.
